Armstrong talks to the press at the finish line of stage eight of the 2010 Tour de France.

Bryn LennonGetty Images

After a career of alternately charming, manipulating and strong-arming the media, former cycling champion Lance Armstrong is turning for redemption to a televised interview with Oprah Winfrey.

Winfrey has said viewers of her talk show on her cable channel OWN on Thursday and Friday nights will witness Armstrong confess that he cheated. But, she warned that people will be surprised in the way in which he confesses.

"I would say he did not come clean in the manner that I expected," Winfrey told CBS This Morning. "We were mesmerized and riveted by some of his answers."

Over the years, ESPN correspondent Jeremy Schaap said, Armstrong has vigorously courted the reporters who covered him, trying to turn them against their skeptical peers, even in the face of allegations from former cyclists or colleagues that he was cheating.

"In terms of dealing with Armstrong, it was always a very carefully choreographed dance," Schaap said. "He did have this way — and has this way — of talking to members of the media and trying to enlist your support, [saying], 'Aren't those guys jerks?' "

Armstrong would turn against those reporters whose pieces were critical, banning their networks, Schaap said, but would still jockey them intensely to discredit other journalists or cyclists who were making allegations.

Americans do not pay much attention to cycling as a rule, with the exception of during the 1980s when American cyclist Greg LeMond won the Tour de France three times. That interest soared in the 1990s when an intriguing former triathelete cycled furiously and overcame testicular cancer to win his first Tour de France.

Schaap recalled covering Armstrong back then and being impressed by his charisma and insight.

"I've been covering sports now for a long time," Schaap said, "and in many ways Lance Armstrong was the most compelling and interesting athlete I've been around. He had this way about him — this confidence, this arrogance — that was, in a way, appealing. And he was also extraordinarily thoughtful."

Schaap recalled a press conference after Armstrong's first Tour win at which he was asked, 'Doesn't your victory after cancer show that anyone can triumph over anything if they just put their mind to it?' Armstrong said no – he had been in the Mayo Clinic where other patients had more to live for, and wanted to live more urgently than he did, yet died. Survival involves treatment, care, research and funds, he argued.

"I was just immediately struck by the intelligence of that answer, and the counterintuitiveness of it," Schaap said.

But there was another side to Armstrong, too. His cycling times were so extraordinary; it was almost as though he were riding in a different race from his competitors. That triggered suspicion about Armstrong in a sport that had already proved rife with doping. Armstrong's denials were adamant and categorical, and he often invoked his comeback from cancer.

"I was on my deathbed, you think I'm going to come back into a sport and say 'OK, doctor, give me everything you got. I just want to go fast?' No way!" he told ESPN, in a typical denial. "I would never do that."

Armstrong had become a hero to many Americans and was able to circumvent the cycling press corps, as he promoted his cancer research foundation, now called Livestrong, and talked directly to the public through his own books and commercials.

"Everybody wants to know what I'm on," Armstrong said, in narrating one advertisement for Nike. "What am I on? I'm on my bike, busting my ass six hours a day. What are you on?"

Armstrong transcended the world of cycling and much of the coverage from non-sports media was adulatory. NBC's Ann Curry flew to Paris to interview Armstrong after each of his seven victories — and though in 2002 she got him to emphatically deny ever doping, her interview after his 2005 retirement involved her pushing him to admit future political aspirations.

In recent years, however, the conversation has turned almost exclusively to the accusations, accreting like snowdrifts in a blizzard. Now that he has been expelled from the sport and stripped of his titles, Armstrong has turned to Winfrey, who often asks smart questions but also has a record of empathizing with her fellow celebrities. Her programs have frequently served as a springboard for tarnished stars to redeem themselves.

Washington Post sports columnist Sally Jenkins has written two books with Armstrong. She said she cannot stomach the venom toward Armstrong and argues his life shouldn't be judged solely by his actions as an athlete.

"I think it's just common sense that ... when other people are talking about you and what you've done, your best side doesn't show," Jenkins said.

In a column last month, Jenkins wrote she's not angry at her friend and collaborator. Yet she said Armstrong owes the public an explanation. She said some of the testimony contained in the report released last fall by the United States Anti-Doping Agency is pretty damning.

When she recently talked with Armstrong, he told her he wanted people to see him answering any question Winfrey could devise. No holds barred, he told her, Jenkins said.

"I think that he hopes by talking that people will see the real Lance Armstrong," Jenkins said. "He feels that the portrait of him is overdrawn, and I think he'd like to counter some of the nastier implications in that report."

David Walsh, a sportswriter for the Sunday Times in the U.K., has been accumulating evidence of Armstrong's cheating for more than a dozen years. His newspaper paid a six-figure settlement to Armstrong after an editor summarized Walsh's allegations contained in a book not published in Britain, where it is notoriously tough to defend a libel claim. The paper now says it wants the money back — and the paper took out a full-page ad in the Chicago Tribune listing questions Winfrey should ask Armstrong.

Winfrey told CBS that she had taken the assignment of interviewing Armstrong as though it were a college exam, reading the "reasoned decision" from the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency, watching critical reports from 60 Minutes and reading Walsh's books.

But Armstrong may be counting on her need to cram as he seeks to manage his televised admission — a first step toward his public redemption.

"It is very telling, I think, that after having dealt with so many people in the [sports] media, so closely for so long," Schaap said, "that when he decides to come clean he does it with someone who's not from that world."

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Transcript

AUDIE CORNISH, HOST:

Oprah Winfrey says viewers who tune in to her cable talk show this Thursday and Friday will witness the confession of former cycling champion Lance Armstrong. The interview is just the latest chapter in Armstrong's long and complicated history with the media.

As NPR's David Folkenflik reports, Armstrong has spent his career alternately charming, manipulating and stiff-arming journalists.

DAVID FOLKENFLIK, BYLINE: Americans don't pay much attention to cycling as a sport - a bit during the 1980s, when American cyclist Greg LeMond won the Tour de France three times. But that interest soared in the 1990s, when an intriguing former triathlete cycled furiously, and overcame testicular cancer to win his first Tour de France.

ESPN correspondent Jeremy Schaap recalls covering Armstrong back then, and being impressed by his charisma and insight.

JEREMY SCHAAP: In many ways, Lance Armstrong was the most compelling and interesting athlete I've been around. He had this way about him; this confidence, this arrogance that was, in a way, appealing, and he was also extraordinarily thoughtful.

FOLKENFLIK: But there was another side, too. His cycling performance was so extraordinary, it was almost as though he were riding in a different race from his competitors. And that triggered suspicion about Armstrong, in a sport that had already proven rife with doping. Armstrong's denials were adamant and categorical; and he often invoked his comeback from cancer, as he did here.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)

LANCE ARMSTRONG: I was on my deathbed. You think I'm going to come back into a sport and say, OK - OK, doctor, give me everything you've got; I just want to go fast. No way. I would never do that.

FOLKENFLIK: Armstrong had become a hero, to many Americans, and was able to circumvent the cycling press corps as he promoted his cancer research foundation and talked directly to the public through his own books and commercials, such as this one for Nike.

(SOUNDBITE OF NIKE AD)

ARMSTRONG: Everybody wants to know what I'm on. What am I on? I'm on my bike, busting my ass six hours a day. What are you on?

FOLKENFLIK: Even so, ESPN's Schaap says, Armstrong vigorously courted the reporters who covered him, trying to turn them against their skeptical peers even in the face of allegations from former cyclists or colleagues that he had been cheating.

SCHAAP: In terms of dealing with Armstrong, you know, it was always a very carefully choreographed dance because he did have this way - and has this way - of talking to members of the media, in trying to enlist your support.

FOLKENFLIK: Armstrong transcended the world of cycling, and much of the coverage from nonsports media was adulatory. NBC's Ann Curry flew to Paris to interview Armstrong after each of his seven victories. And though in 2002 she got him to empathetically deny ever doping, her interview after his 2005 retirement went more like this.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED BROADCAST)

ARMSTRONG: No, I don't. No, I don't.

ANN CURRY: Come on.

ARMSTRONG: I don't.

CURRY: You do.

ARMSTRONG: I don't.

CURRY: You're saying you have no political aspirations.

FOLKENFLIK: But in recent years, the conversation has turned almost exclusively to the accusations, accreting like snowdrifts in a blizzard. And now that he has been expelled from the sport and stripped of his titles, Armstrong has turned to Oprah Winfrey. She needs the ratings help for her cable channel, called OWN.

FOLKENFLIK: The ad time has sold out at premium rates, for both nights of the interview. On Tuesday, Winfrey told close friend Gayle King and the other hosts of "CBS This Morning" that Armstrong was forthcoming. But she said...

WINFREY: I would say he did not come clean in the manner that I expected. We were mesmerized and riveted by some of his answers.

FOLKENFLIK: Washington Post sports columnist Sally Jenkins has written two books with Armstrong, and she says his life shouldn't be judged solely by his actions as an athlete.

SALLY JENKINS: I think it's just common sense that, you know, when other people are talking about you and what you've done, your best side doesn't show.

FOLKENFLIK: In a column last month, Jenkins wrote she's not angry at her friend and collaborator. But, she says, some of the evidence in the report released last fall by the United States Anti-Doping Agency is pretty damning.

JENKINS: I think he hopes that by talking, people will see the real Lance Armstrong. I think he feels that the portrait of him is, in some ways, very overdrawn; and he'd like to counter, you know, some of the nastier implications in that report.

FOLKENFLIK: Winfrey often asks sharp questions, but she is equally known as an empathetic interviewer, one who relates to her fellow celebrities, and her shows have frequently served as a platform from which people seek public redemption. Winfrey told CBS that she had taken the assignment of interviewing Armstrong seriously.

WINFREY: I had prepared. I'd read the recent decision. I watched all of Scott Pelley's reports. I read David Walsh's books. I had prepared and prepared, like it was a college exam.

FOLKENFLIK: Again, ESPN's Jeremy Schaap.

SCHAAP: It is very telling, I think, that after having dealt with so many people in the media so closely, for so long - in the sports media, that when he ultimately decides to come clean, he does it with someone who's not from that world.

FOLKENFLIK: This week, Lance Armstrong has much riding on his performance off the bike. David Folkenflik, NPR News. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright National Public Radio.